If Kalia was another of Azur’s wives, I could see why he’d chosen her. She was beautiful. Standing close to her, I was highly aware that the sea wind had swept tendrils of hair out from my tight bun and that my dress was terribly, terribly drab in comparison to the sparkling metals sewn to her tunic.
Kalia froze. She’d been approaching the terrace banister—to go flying? I wondered—but she stilled next to the small bubbling fountain in the very center.
For a moment, she looked flabbergasted, blinking at me in such a way that made me wonder if she’d forgotten who I was.
Then her lips pressed. The bloom in her hands dropped and I watched it fall.
Clearing my throat, I took a step toward her, my heart beginning to thump in my chest. “What are these flowers called? They’re beautiful. I’ve never quite seen—”
Kalia turned her back on me. Though she could fly, she took to the stairs, one angry step at a time.
“Wait!” I called out behind her. “I just…”
I trailed off with a sigh, watching her quick retreat.
Biting my lip, I turned back to the Silver Sea.
Deal with it, I told myself, even when I felt my throat tighten. It was probably ill-advised regardless to try to make friends with Kalia, since she obviously detested the mere sight of me. But even on the Collis, when I’d felt alone, I’d truly never been alone. I’d had my sisters. I’d had Fran.
On Krynn I was alone. Truly alone. With no way to even contact my family. To see how they were.
“They’re called starwood flowers,” came Kalia’s voice.
I turned with a hitched breath, but she was already gone, the tops of her wings disappearing as she retreated. But she’d answered me. I hadn’t made her cry like last time by just speaking to her. I considered that progress.
Glancing at the flowers spilling next to me, I touched one of the blooms. With velvety soft petals, the stamen was dark, almost pitch black. The indigo color of the bloom had intermittent white dots peppered along its surface, giving the appearance of a starry night sky.
Beautiful, I thought, making a mental note to look up books on Krynn’s plant life in the library, if I could find any.
Peering around the filled courtyard and remembering the private terrace where I’d taken my morning meal with Azur yesterday—though he’d done more of the eating than I had, I remembered with a flush—I thought that the flowers could use a little care. The ones that were trailing on the ground had begun to rot. The vines from which they bloomed were tangled and wild. Some curled around the stones but others jutted upward, swaying in the wind.
It’s a project, I thought quietly. It would give me something to do. And to distract from the reality of my situation, I would need a lot to fill my time.
I found another project to work on later that day as I explored the west wing of the keep.
I came across an open, arched door, slightly ajar. The sounds of frustration coming from within were what made me push it open and peer curiously inside.
Within, I discovered a Kylorr male, hands running through golden-yellow hair, which got tangled around his twisting ivory-colored horns. Sitting slumped over a metal desk, scribbling away on parchment, he was wearing a deep frown and mumbling under his breath. Piles and stacks of paper were all around him, and I watched as he paused in his scribbling to pluck a sheet from the stack, scanning its contents with a shrewd eye.
That was when he saw me lingering in the doorway, and he straightened, blinking.
“Kylaira,” the male greeted with a slight bow of his head, standing up from the desk.
“I don’t mean to intrude,” I told him, eyeing the room.
And it was a pretty room at that. High, vaulted ceilings and tall, arched windows, with latticed panes that made a delightful diamond pattern. A desk was situated in front of the windows, which I imagined would let in warm, glorious sunlight in the afternoons. Heavy shelves of stacked papers were stuffed up against all the available space. It was chaotic and disorganized, but it smelled like the library my mother had kept in the Collis. The scent of old parchment and earthy ink would always make me think of her.
Upon closer inspection, I saw the papers were records. Shelves and shelves of them.
Distracted, I murmured, “I thought you were in distress from the sounds, so I came to see if anything was wrong.”
The male’s shoulders relaxed. His grin was lopsided, charming, even. “This time of the year is always busy. I’m afraid I misplaced my original calculations for the harvest, so I’m trying to re-do them.” His face dropped. “But I beg you, do not tell the Kyzaire that.”
It was strange. There were some in the keep who didn’t seem to know the nature of the marriage between Azur and myself. Most knew it had been arranged. But some seemed to believe that there was respect or even affection in the relationship when they could not be further from the truth.
Another thing I found strange, which had never been more apparent to me than right then, staring at a records room full of parchment, was that there was a lack of tech utilized in daily life here.
Even in the Collis, I would never imagine keeping physical records. All records and accounting were done and stored through our Halo system. I knew that the Kylorr, at least the Kylorr of the Kaalium, were a wealthy people. The obvious wealth of my own husband and his family was apparent. I’d seen the nature of his space vessel—it was top-of-the-line luxurious. He even had a private docking bay on planet and a private high-speed transport tunnel straight to the keep.
But the keep itself seemed to be run in the old tradition. The keepers cleaned, cooked, and did their chores by hand, forgoing the use of programmed tech. There were no automated systems within the rooms, like the washroom. The showers had to be switched on by hand. If I washed my hair, I had to roughly dry it with a cloth and finish in front of the fire, which I couldn’t turn on with a wave of my hand.
Beds needed to be made manually. Windows needed to be opened at the start of every morning. And there were no messaging systems in place to reach another being in a different section of the keep, if need be.
When was the last time I’d ever done our accounting by hand? I wondered, staring at the silver pen lying innocently across the Kylorr male’s parchment. Even for quick calculations, I couldn’t remember.
Stepping forward into the room, I said, “I can help you. I’m good with numbers. I did all our record keeping for—”
“That’s not necessary, Kylaira,” the male said quickly. “I can handle it. I’m sure you have too much to do to bother with these old records.”
“I’m quite bored, I assure you. I would love to help,” I said softly, giving him a small smile. Which died when I added, “If you don’t mind the company, that is.”
Numbers. I loved numbers—even when I’d hated them in connection to our debts. Because numbers never lied. Math was the foundation of our universe and one of the only commonalities between the vast amount of races in the Four Quadrants.